A Court of Dreams
by demi2000
Summary: Just a bunch of headcanons and imaginary scenarios for my beloved Inner Circle
1. Chapter 1

#1

I was crying with laughter as Cassian sipped a drink from his cup, smug and entirely oblivious to the disgusted look coming from Azriel.

"I'm dying," I croaked.

Who's killing you?

Rhysand sounded humored. I laughed down the bond.

Cassian is.

Instantly, Rhys appeared in the living hall. Tears remained in my eyes as I held him with them. His face was a blur.

He blinked. "I don't see any wounds."

I snorted. "Humor, dumbhead. He's killing me with his wits."

Another blink. "Impossible. He doesn't have any."

Cassian threw his cup at Rhysand, who stepped away in time. The warrior sank into the sofa, grumbling. "I don't know which is more insulting – wondering if I'd actually impaled her with my sword, or calling me dumb."

Azriel actually laughed out loud. It was a deep, throaty sound. Rhys grinned widely.

"Sorry, brother. I couldn't imagine what else you would be killing her with."


	2. Chapter 2

#2

 **A/N: This is my own version of when Feyre and Rhysand first meet, then later finding out that Rhys can read minds. The plot here has nothing to do with Sarah J Maas's original plot in ACOTAR.**

He - Rhysand - simply stared at me, faint touches of amusement lingering in his eyes, on his lips.

Condescending bastard.

His grin inched wider.

"What?" I snapped.

He outstretched his hand in answer. "Let's go."

* * *

"How - " I breathed. "How did you - "

Azriel shot a glance at us, then at Rhysand. "You didn't tell her that you're a mind reader? No wonder she looked so idiotically comfortable around you."

Rhys looked at me with both guilt and amusement in his eyes, blasting shadows that threw three Nargs into the river.

Amusement. All those times -

"Have you been reading mine?" The snarl in my voice was too weak, too muted to convey all that emotion directed at him. Rhys shrugged.

"I figured telling you that I can see into your secrets - all of them - wasn't particularly the best way to win your trust. After all, we've just met."

So he had been condescending at our first encounter.

I nearly suffocated with rage as I spat, "And you thought lying to my face would accomplish what, exactly?"

Azriel simply laughed as he sliced down another Narg. Rhys had the nerve to glare at the shadowsinger.

"I was going to tell you. Not so bluntly, though."

Azriel ignored him. "Fight later. I mean fight each other later. Fight the Nargs."


	3. Chapter 3

#3

 **A/N: A role switch: In ACOTAR, where Feyre is the High Lady of the Night Court, and Rhysand is a mortal man who is captured and brought to Velaris. Feyre and the Inner Circle is trying to think of a way to beat Amarantha. This is written in first person, Feyre's POV.**

I sat at the long table where the food was left cold and only partly eaten. Nobody really had an appetite since Amarantha had announced war to the Spring Court. As much as I found Tamlin distasteful, it was true that his court had held up the barrier when other courts had fell one by one. Including mine.

Mor was sitting on the throne with Cassian towering over her, arguing about the city's defenses. Well, about who was going to stay and watch over it.

"We need Amren, Mor. We need her power and destruction - it is the only way to end that witch's reign." Cassian was uncharacteristically trying to win this argument the sensible way. Mor, on the other hand, wasn't up for it.

"So you should stay in her place. I am going, and nothing you're saying is going to change that."

"Morrigan-"

Azriel's soft voice cut Cassian off. "She's right. Mor's a good fighter. Velaris will be safe once the war begins, and Amarantha won't bother looking for a city she doesn't know exists."

The shadowsinger had a point, more than the two who were still seething at each other on the throne. I resisted the urge to bury my head in my hands. This was not the time to start being exhausted. I could hold on for a little longer.

Nobody said anything, until the forgotten one among us spoke out from across the table. Rhysand, the man who had escaped Amarantha with his human wits. The reason why Amarantha had warranted death on all of Prythian. My eyes were a mix of admiration and grudge as they eyed the black haired man.

"Sorry to interrupt, but may I ask how she is here?" His drawling voice carried across the table and straight at me. Everyone turned to look at us, except Amren who had remained silent during the whole of the meeting. She stood in the balcony, her back revealing nothing of what she thought of the war to come.

I did not have the time for this. I told Rhys, "You do realize that my odds of being here are incredibly higher than yours? Stay out of the meeting."

He didn't budge. "You're Amarantha's whore. I say my odds are higher."

Cassian angrily strode over to the insolent human and banged his hands on the table on either sides of him. His words were a growl. "Keep that mouth shut until I regret saving your ass and throw you back to Amarantha."

"And risk her knowing that you kept me here?"

Before the warrior could kill Rhysand out of rage, Azriel intervened and dragged his brother back to Mor's side. She looked pretty mad herself, too.

I raised my hand. "I'm fine." Then I turned to Rhysand, who was staring at me with dark indigo eyes. His face was a mask. "Amarantha released me for a week to prepare my court - the Court of Nightmares - for war. She thinks I am raising an army for her."

"But you're not."

I ignored the blatantly obvious statement as I turned back to my three friends. Amren was still staring at the stars, absentmindedly twirling her feather earrings. We had a week until we made our statement to Amarantha - either fight with her or fight her. The odds of winning the latter option was slim, while the first might buy us some time to reach Drakon and Miryam. Amren suddenly spoke as if she had read my mind.

"They will not be here until the witch has killed at least half or more of the resisting army."

Mor turned her head to face Amren. "A week isn't enough. Feyre did not entertain that bitch just to see Velaris in ruins." She glanced at me apologetically. It didn't matter, I knew it broke her too. Although the thought of returning to Amarantha rattled my bones, I had to bear. Even though the rattle was starting to become permanent.

I slowly turned to face Rhysand. His hands were locked on the table, body slightly leaned forward. I slowly extended a tendril of my mind into his.

 _I should trust her. She saved me. But she was also sitting beside Amarantha. She broke minds. I should trust her. Amarantha's whore._

I involuntarily recoiled, my bones becoming dangerously cold. Rhysand blinked as if he did not believe he saw me flinch. When he saw me, he saw me sitting next to Amaranth Under the Mountain, my face barely recognizable as Rhysand ascended from the mud pitch, arm broken and face gaunt. I was Amarantha's whore.

I ignored Cassian's grumbling as I slowly stood up. I looked straight into Rhysand's eyes as I asked.

"What do you propose we do, then?"

He blinked again, then shot up an eyebrow. He had an attitude on him, undiminished in the presence of five powerful Faes in the room.

"Oh, is it a 'we' now? If I didn't know better, I would think that you are asking for council."

Strangely, his sarcastic words somehow eased the tension in the room. Annoyed but not angry nor cold, I fisted my hands into the yellow tablecloth and smiled. Remember Feyre, I told myself, his sass and intelligence are two different things.

"A wise person listens to others." Cassian snorted, and Mor slapped him none too softly.

"A wise person does not call oneself wise." Rhysand reached across and grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl. He also got up from his chair, slowly making way to our side of the room. I had not realized that there was an invisible wall between him and us. It was probably self imposed, anyway. He was scared of us, even if he did not show it.

Amren, who had already came back into the room and was sitting beside me, cocked her head at him. "Do you want money, human? Is that what will make you speak?"

Rhysand actually laughed - laughed - as he approached Amren. Although I could see Azriel's shadow become thicker out of the corner of my eye, no one made a move on him. He walked past Amren and stopped right in front of me. He was a head taller than I was, but his height was not what made me uneasy. His voice was dangerously sweet, guarded yet offering. It was a low murmur. He slanted his face so that he was whispering in my ears.

"Money might buy you loyalty, but not love, certainly not mine. And loyalty without love...well, that's dangerous as anything can get."

He knew his words hurt me. He had seen me flinch, and guessed correctly at the source. He knew how my bones became cold. _Loyalty without love_ was a low jab at my title of Amarantha's whore. The tablecloth was gone now, my nails digging into my bare palms instead. That did not hurt, not as much as his words did. I did not expect him to like me, us, the Night Court, Prythian, not after how he was dragged into all this. But at least he could be grateful and use his intelligence to realize that we were actually fighting for the same cause. This was - this was betrayal. I saved him, and he betrayed me. My trust.

The corner of his lips came down as he read the change in my eyes. I stepped closer to him, my face tilting upwards as I whispered back.

"Rhys, here, favors are returned. Debts are returned. Promises are returned." I motioned for Azriel to come closer behind Rhysand's back as I didn't stop whispering. "Do you know what else is also returned?" Azriel's shadows shackled around Rhysand's wrists, and I took a step back as his eyes widened in fear - and hurt. Good.

"Take him to his room. Make sure he never leaves until he has something helpful to offer us." Azriel nodded. Rhysand did not drop his gaze as he disappeared from the room.

Mor put a hand on my shoulders as I slumped down on the chair, unable to resist the exhaustion that threatened to drag me over the edge.

"Mistrust, Rhysand." My voice was quiet as the fire cackled in the hearth and the meeting adjourned.


	4. Chapter 4

#4

 **A/N: Conversation between Azriel and Mor in Velaris, when Rhysand was away being Amarantha's whore.**

Azriel knocked on the huge oak doors. His shadows reported nothing going on behind them, but that was exactly what worried the Shadowsinger. Mor was not one to lay low when her brother risked his life Under the Mountain. She would try to do what she thought was right, even though it was not. He felt relief as he heard her voice behind the thick doors. He pushed them open, and found Mor sitting in the middle of her bed, fully dressed in -

"Is that Cassian's Illyrian armour?" Azriel could not help but admit that she looked lethally beautiful in the thick, crude leather. Her blonde hair was tumbling down on either sides of her face as she buried her head between her knees. She raised her face to look at him.

"One of his older ones. Can't remember when he was this small." She muttered as he sat down gracefully beside her, putting an arm around her shoulders. She snuggled between his neck and shoulder blades, falling into a comfortable position. He felt her tense muscles relax as he slowly rubbed his fingers.

They did not speak for a moment, then Azriel murmured. "What were you thinking, Mor?" His eyes flashed to a slender blade lying on the bed, not too far from where she sat. His hands involuntarily squeezed her shoulders. His shadows lightly wrapped around Mor's body, none-too-discreetly checking for any signs of harm. Self-harm.

She swatted them away, annoyed. "Don't be ridiculous, Az." He immediately pulled in the shadows. "I was just trying to cut my hair."

He stiffened. Her hair, which he sometimes had trouble taking his eyes off. Her hair, which she let down gloriously as she slayed Nargs and other forsaken creatures. Her hair, which he loved.

"No." His husky voice broke a little as he lowered his eyes to meet hers. The proximity was not new between them, yet the tense atmosphere almost drove him crazy. "No." He said again, this time more to himself.

She pushed him away and jumped to the floor. She paced, angry feet making no sound as they hit the ground. "I can go into Under the Mountain, infiltrate and - and help Rhys. I can disguise myself, cut and dye my hair. No one would know." She looked to him for approval, begging for it silently. As much as they acquired what they wanted from him most of the time, this he could not relent.

"It's too dangerous. You're not only risking your life, but Rhys's life. You're risking Velaris - "

"No, Azriel. I'm trying to save it."

He did not like Mor being angry with him. Her smiles were already rare enough. He clenched his teeth, his heart aching for her to lean against him again. His voice was the Shadowsinger's voice, calculating and firm.

"If that's what you think, then you are an even greater fool than I gave you credit for."

"Credit is given to good virtues, not foolishness."

"These days good men are the foolish men." Calculating and cold were gone from his voice. He was pleading with her - the Shadowsinger was pleading. She had to see that good intentions did not always lead to good consequences. The world was twisted that way. His heart was hidden beneath layers of shadows. Her heart was too big, too good.

Mor simply dropped her head. Azriel had to stand up and hug her tightly, his arms wrapping around her head and waist. She inhaled deeply, the breath shuddering as she sobbed. He slowly worked to remove the Illyrian leathers, undoing the straps and knots. His shadow had already removed the blade from her bed. Her arms tightened around his waist, desperate to hold on. He looked out at Velaris from her window, the blue sky and peaceful city only reminding him of his brother Under the Mountain. He let the shadows around his heart dissolve a little as a tear dropped from his swirling eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

#5

 **A/N: This is an imaginary scenario, where Velaris is attacked by a few rogue sea monsters. The Inner circle has gone to the Court of Nightmares for a diplomatic mission, while Cassian and Nesta stayed behind. Takes place after ACOWAR.**

Summer in Velaris was just like Cassian - hot and fiery. Ironically enough, he hated it. He fanned his sweltering body, glaring at Nesta as she gracefully sipped tea, not a bead of sweat to be seen on her face.

"Ice woman," he muttered from the other side of the table they were sitting on, the seats of their friends empty. He missed the banter already - silence tended to suffocate him. If Nesta had heard him, she didn't show it. Just as he was about to ask her what her plans were for the day, her ears perked up. He heard frantic footsteps approaching the room. He immediately stood up.

One of the city guards ran in. "General, there's a disturbance on the shore of Velaris." Nesta set the cup down.

"Is it an invasion?" He wished it was. Not that he was eager for another war, not after the clash with Hybern a few months ago. But he needed a distraction from the heat and lack of action - maybe some spies from the Autumn Court? He would enjoy a good game of chase. As Nesta read his eagerness, she frowned and shook her head disapprovingly.

The guard frowned. "No, sir. Just a few rogue sea monsters. The city watch is trying to contain the damage, but they are too huge."

Simple size and power, Cassian appreciated. He motioned for the guard to leave. "Go help them. I will be there shortly." He saw Nesta approach him and grinned. "I know you don't want me out of your sight. Want to come?"

Nesta rolled her eyes at his enthusiasm - and immaturity. She raised her chin and said in a calm voice, "I don't care, idiot. I need you to tell the guard something."

He looked at her in disbelief. "But he literally left the room moments ago."

"Which makes it easier for you to catch up. Now run along and tell him to prepare nets. Tell him to dip them in oil, then drape them over the sea monsters. I have a few guesses about what they are."

Cassian stared into her eyes. She could almost see the pout, and smiled.

"Fire only dampens their strength - they draw it from the sea water. You still get to kill them. Now go, pup." He reminded her of a huge dog, loyal and simple-minded. She resisted the urge to pat him on the head and huffed.

His eyes glinted dangerously at the name, but laughed as he stretched his Illyrian wings, covering the sunlight and making the room go dark for a fleeting moment. He jumped out the window, gliding effortless through the open sky. She walked over to the balcony, rubbing her shoulders. She secretly admired his strength, his goodness, hell, even his lack of complexity. But she didn't admire them as she did his wings. She often wondered what it was like to fly, to swim in the air. It must feel empowering.

She stared where Cassian had flown away, debating for a moment. Then she turned around and walked out of the room.

* * *

Cassian let out a low whistle. The monsters were not just huge - the smallest of them was the size of three houses. He chuckled, thinking again about how Nesta had called him _pup._ He knew that she loved dogs.

There were three creatures in total, their bodies serpentine with heads resembling Nargs. Definitely ugly. The nets limited their movement, but the thrashing was still causing damage to the city. He hoped there were no casualties yet. He plummeted down, plunging his sword into the biggest monster. It let out a wail, and smashed a house nearby into rubble with its tail. Cassian saw that it was a gallery, and families were running out into the streets, screaming and holding their children. This old painter, Zach, hobbled out. Just as the nearest monster was about to swallow the old man, he threw a dagger into its eye.

Another blade landed its mark faster than his dagger.

He immediately recognized the silhouette in the blue dress. She had not even bothered to change, he noticed, as she calmly threw a sword into the monster's eye and helped Zach to safety. She lifted her eyes to him, gaze lingering on his Illyrian wings. His treasure. He tried to read what she was thinking, but she shouted something that barely reached his Fae ears.

Behind you.

Without looking, he flipped backwards just as a head snapped its teeth where he was seconds ago. He flew over to the one with the sword impaled in its eye and pulled it out. The hilt was familiar - he saw it in his armory every day when he trained. Damn, that woman -

He shot over to the largest monster and struck the sword in its skull to the hilt, then flew back, the sword cutting open its body in half. Its blood was thick and white. People screamed down below as the liquid hit them. He left the dead serpent to fall, flying down to the pavement to where Nesta was. She looked pale, trying to understand what happened. She gripped his arm tightly.

"Cassian, the blood - it's burning the people." He saw Zach not too far away. There were red rashes all over his skin where the blood had made contact. He was screaming in pain, but the white liquid did not wash off easily. He swore, grabbing Nesta's arm and meaning to run. "You need to go back - "

She didn't move, staring at the screaming people in front of her. Behind, the guards were throwing spears at the monsters. Another one fell, a dozen spears embedded in its thick body. The last one would fall soon. Cassian gripped her arms in restraint as she made to approach the old man. She was shaking. "Zach, I'm so sorry."

He pulled her back. "Hey, he's already being tended to. We're going back." He knew what was eating at her, and it was ridiculous.

"But he's suffering."

"He's an artist. It's inevitable."

She finally looked at him. Glared at him, but didn't resist his pull. Finally, she let Cassian gather her up into a hug and fly back. The trip was silent, and when Cassian set her down on the balcony, she lingered, playing with his long hair. Her dress was torn in places where his Illyrian leather didn't even have a scratch, and he remembered how she threw the sword into the monster's eye. She was a warrior, like him, but she tried so hard to hide that side. He decided that this was not the time to annoy her by bringing it up. He guided her to the sofa beside the table and they sat down. Her face was regal as always, eyes bright and lips clipped, but it was a shade pale. She didn't avert his gaze, daring him to speak.

"It's not your fault."

She huffed, but her fingers stopped playing with his hair. "Of course not."

He smiled a little. He swore, her ego must be bigger than his. He placed his hand on top of hers still tangled in his hair.

"Nesta, it's not your fault."

Her eyes turned angry, but did not push him away. She spat out. "I didn't know, Cassian. I didn't know that their blood was corrosive."

"I didn't know either."

"If this is your attempt of insulting me disguised as comfort - "

He didn't know whether to be annoyed or amused. He sighed, "Point is, Nesta, you can't possibly know and prevent everything. Hell, even Rhysand can't do that, and he is High Lord."

Nesta breathed unevenly, then searched in his eyes for any signs of condemnation. He really didn't know what she expected to find in them. Maybe she wished for some, but she would never find it in his eyes.

Finally, she locked her fingers with his. Her voice was calm once more, but strained. "I knew, Cassian. I knew. I have read about the monsters when I was - back when -" She stuttered. She never stuttered, not around him.

His heart broke a little as he understood what she meant. _When she was human._ He silently swore the king of Hybern to eternal damnation as he placed a hand under her chin and looked at her. "Honey, human memories are hazy -"

She swatted his hand away. "Don't call me that. I forgot, Cassian. I thought Faes were supposed to have enhanced memory." She dared him to challenge her, but he could see that her guilt was almost gone now. He nodded in relief, willing to agree with everything she said. She sighed, and Cassian relaxed as she leaned back into the couch. They didn't say anything else, but silence with Nesta didn't bother Cassian. He enjoyed their intimate moments when they were not shouting at each other or physically wrestling.

Nesta finally opened her mouth. "I hate you."

He laughed. She must be back to normal. "Well, I love you."

She turned to look at him. At his wings, sprawled to their full lengths behind her and drooping to the floor. He studied her face as she cautiously lifted a finger to his wings and stroked lightly. Damn it. He bit his tongue to suppress a groan. She clearly had no idea.

She left her finger there as she spoke again. "Don't let this get to her head, but...I'm jealous. Of you."

Cassian's heart thudded as he realized that she was opening up to him. After killing the King of Hybern, she had resorted back to her cold, distant self around him. He stayed away, respecting her wishes and constantly telling himself that he must remind her of that day of battle, where her dad had died and he himself almost died as well. But it bothered him so much. He longed for her.

He inhaled sharply as she started to move her fingers again, this time the touch more confident. His hands clenched into fists. She continued, oblivious to his discomfort.

"Wings, Cassian...seeing them tattered on that battlefield, I..." She looked into his eyes. "I want to fly, Cassian."

His heart ached at the one request that he could not bestow her. Her desires were his, her wishes were his. His eyes were sad as they never left hers. "All the more reason to stay by my side." The last word hitched a little as her fingers stroked the inside of his wings. He closed his eyes, his breath uneven. "And you need to stop doing that." Her fingers didn't stop, and he opened his eyes to find himself staring into hers.

"I know what I am doing, Cassian." She leaned into his neck, her breath tickling his skin. He gritted his teeth and tried to stay still. "Thank you," she breathed, then stood up and left the room.

He remained sitting, trying to regain his breathing. He swore he saw amusement in her eyes as she left, and let out a short laugh as he closed his eyes once more.


End file.
